Christian poetry & essays about one woman's faith walk.

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Archive | April 2015

Have you thought about crossing Jordan?
That perfectly crystal river that flows?
It splashes and gurgles, flowing, having the time of its life?
O it’s Jordan at last my spirit surely knows,
Hooray! At last! At last!

Have you thought about your first sight of Heaven?
Gates of huge pearls beaming smiles everywhere,
Angels singing praises and we join in songs familiar and old!
Not a single tear again will be shed here.
Heaven! At last! At last!

Does judgment cross your mind at all?
When we’ll be held accountable one and all?
Do you turn your head away?
Or wait your turn feeling guilty and raw?
One day soon! One day soon! Oh soon!

I’m set to go over Jordan
No bags to pack, instructions given, name in the book.
Won’t you come with me over Jordan?
I can’t wait to go, can’t wait to look.
Home at last! Home at last! Come praise the Lord!

Come down to the river my friends,
Come down to the shore, souls are coming home.
Boats are gliding up to the pier,
Just give’em your hand, no one is alone.
Step up! Here they go! Watch them go!!!

Heaven’s sounding more inviting all the time,
Jordan’s water never run so swiftly in all its days.
What a Homecoming this will be!
Listen to me one more time, hear me say,
Crossing Jordan! Going home! Going home!
—d.f.a.v . 4/27/15—Donna

You think God has something for you to do for Him?
Do.
It.
Now.
Don’t put it off, thinking the chances are too slim.
Get.
To.
It.
You imagine God has someone for you to help.
Help.
Them.
Now.
Keep your good deed to yourself, you won’t miss a step.
Just.
Get.
Done.
You see God at work and you want to work too?
Get.
Up & go.
To it.
Join in a work or start one yourself, be a team of many or one.
Work.
Get it.
Done.
Have a hole in your heart so you’re never content?
Let.
Jesus.
Fill it.
Have the gospel to share with nine or nine hundred percent?
Put your.
Feet on the floor.
Go to it.
Afraid everyone will laugh & point everyday ’til you’re sick?
Just.
Work.
Through this.
This is your only life on this earth you get to live.
So.
Go.
Live it.
Tomorrow is another day if God chooses to share it.
Please.
Go.
Do it.
d.f.a.v. 4/27/15—Donna

Evil in this life and those who choose to inflict it,
Leave scars deep, dark and wide though to us they may seem small.
Scars that can’t be erased by anything less than purest love,
Love that only exists in the heart of God and we’re called to explain it all,

Jesus Himself can only love like this, and my frend, Jesus loves you.
He doesn’t care who you are or how badly you’ve screwed up.
Jesus loves you, with a love tough, pure and sweet.
And He brings it to His lips this vile sin filled cup, drinks it up.

His death on the cross, crucified…stripped naked…
Cruel with no mercy He died on that tree,
Gave His life freely, His freedom, His heart,
Jesus surely gave it to You, surely endured it all, for you.
—d.f.a.v. 4/27/15

The young lady knew what she was looking for,
She’d driven past it a thousand times or more.
Word on her street was grandmother came here to this church.
The very same woman who’d called religion a crutch.
Only a few cars in the parking lot but lots of children’s laughter she heard,
When she slid from her car and followed the squeal of childish words.
She saw all the proof she needed as she peered around the tree,
Her once “sane” grandmother had lost it from what she could see.
She watched from the shadows as parents began to arrive,
And her grandmother handed out food, coats and more than one surprise.
There was warmth in her manner, a sparkle in her eyes,
When she said, “You thank Jesus, you hear? Don’t be thanking me.”
Later at grandmother’s house her granddaughter reflected,
“Gram’s what’s changed? It’s like a new person in you as awakened.”
“It’s really quite simple you’ll find,” Gram’s said with a smile, “I learned how to say ‘God cares’.”
“These days I’d rather give than receive as a bit of evidence God shares.”
“Humanity has suffered in many unnecessary ways.
Evil seems to triumph we see and hear this every day.
Only when the right things done does it mean God’s had His way.”
Later grandmother walked her grandchild outside.
“Are you satisfied now I’ve nothing to hide?”
Granddaughter replied with a simple comment,
“I’d like to find what you’ve found, can I choose to this journey to commit?”
So right then and there the two knelt to pray.
A first for the pair who’d made all Heaven rejoice on that day.
For what the world labeled crazy, even bizarre,
In God’s Kingdom rejoicing was heard as truth hit the mark.
For granddaughter found what her grams passed on with care
Absolutely, the best inheritance anyone could ever share.
d.f.a.v. 4/23/15—Donna

It had seen better days, this angel statue I rarely noticed anymore.
She was dirty and weathered in her little garden nook.
But there was something about her that drew the girl from play,
She toddled on over and gave her a look and a touch,
Then before I could stop her she gave the angel a kiss,
As she went back to play part of my heart knew the score.

Doesn’t the Bible tell us to remain always aware,
How we treat those strangers who appear at our door?
The homeless beggar, smelly and vile?
The freezing wanderer off the side of the road?
The well dressed person who appears to have no need?
Because we may entertain angels though we’re unaware?

Flesh and blood angels, whose wings aren’t showing that day.
Sent from Heaven to test our hearts eyes.
For how we treat these indicates a truth,
Do those who appear most worthy win special treatment from us?
While lower on the rungs of the social roaster,
We may toss a few scraps the not-so-fortunates way?

Do we fail to see them, are they all concrete?
The ones we pass by and don’t even nod or speak to?
If we took just a moment and offered them a smile?
Every possible angel that appeared in our days?
Treating them all as if Christ Himself were them?
How many angels a day would we kiss on the cheek?
d.f.a.v. 4/22/15—Donna

It’s not the words I write
Or the books I read
It’s not the things I say,
On any given day.

My testimony comes not in song,
But the way I act with my adversaries.
How do I treat those who hate me?
Do I respond with kindness as Christ said it should be?

The true measure of who I am,
Is found in my actions in face of dissatisfaction.
It’s easy to be nice, tender and sweet,
When the world’s your oyster, your favorite treat.

Harder is the road to respond with thanksgiving,
When you’ve lost it all and you’re left grieving.
How I respond to unexpected tragedies stakes,
That tells you if I’m the real thing or fake.

Make fun of my size; it’s really alright ,
Doubt my pain, the crease in my brow.
Question my motives even my faith,
But in the end is my name down as saved?

I’ll always have Jesus center of my heart,
Nothing or no one can rip us asunder,
I’m in the palm of His hand since the day I knew,
That He was God the Father, God the Son & Holy Spirit that blew.

Doubt my decisions and peel open my doubts,
But answer this question before you announce,
As I’ve stumbled through this life messing up as I go,
Did I point you to Jesus or point you to you?

When I kneel before Jesus waiting to be judged,
May my life have stood strong, the message loud.
My heart and my life agreement in one,
I’ve based my life on God the Father, the Spirit and Son.
d.f.a.v. 4/19/15—Donna

Is the only broken heart in Heaven Your’s, Lord?
Are You the only one who weeps at our pain?
The One we reject?
Show no respect?
Are You the One in tears for our self-made pain?

Though billions of souls are there praising You?
Though angels sing glory to Your every name?
Does Your heart have a hole?
‘Cause we are so bold?
Though billions of others praise Your name?

There shouldn’t be any sadness in Heaven.
No anguish of any hearts over there.
Do You bear Your burden alone,
In our Heavenly home?
So those gone don’t know what’s going here?

Is the only broken heart in Heaven Your’s, Lord?
Do you look down on earth and cry for us all alone?
The Cornerstone builders reject?
Whose sacrifice we neglect?
While You call, “My children come home! Come home.”

Then Lord, I propose our hearts should break too,
By the very same things that so disturb you,
We too should cry,
At the cost of our tries,
At all the things that so grieve you.
-d.f.a.v. 4/15/15 for 4/16/15—Donna

Abba Father: Let those who read this understand none of us have tomorrow promised to us.

Ecclesiastes 3:1-8 has been my favorite scripture passage since I was fifteen/sixteen years old. “There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under heaven: a time to be born and a time to die,…” So pass the seasons of our lives. Everything in its appointed time as God sees fit.

The only difference between you and me today is that doctors have told me my season for living is approaching the season of death at a faster pace than “your average bear”. The prognosis hasn’t been expressed as “six months, or a year…” Because no one knows.

Recently, at the ripe old age of 51, I was admitted to Hospice care. At that time, I was told it was simply to enable me to get the longer term care I needed. Only within the last couple weeks did that change. I haven’t been able to make this public knowledge until now because I needed time to wrap my head around it myself. And I wanted my siblings to know first. Now that the reality is laid out there I’m left with the need to tell the rest of my “world”. My extended family, friends and former co-workers.

So the why? My heart disease, caused by one too many blood clots passing through to my lungs, is predictable. What isn’t is the Lymphedema. My Lymphedema is a one-in-a-billion case. Advancing aggressively and now causing every area of my body to swell, it forces my heart, functioning at 20% in the right ventricle, to work harder. Lymphedema has no cure and available treatments cause more damage than they help me.

I expect to be here for a good bit of time yet. As I’ve always told our daughter, I now tell you, as long as it is my choice I will remain here.

So now you know. I ask your continued prayers for my family and me, the arrest and even remission of the Lymphedema and GOD’S WILL not my own to be accomplished.

I’m not brave, or strong, or an example. I am one woman, with one faith in one God who understands the question isn’t, “Why me” but “Why NOT me”? To God be the glory any that comes.

In my daily devotional Monday morning I came upon this quote by David C. McCarand on I Peter 5:7. “Our goal should not be to see how many years we can live but instead to live fully in loving service to the Lord for all the years we are given.”